Villages Beyond the Great Wall
Aisha, who had been sobbing uncontrollably, gradually calmed down as time passed. The hiccupping sobs subsided naturally, and Estiang's awkward patting on her back slyly returned to its place. It was good that Aisha had settled, but an indescribable awkwardness hung in the air. Estiang had been flustered mid-consolation when she burst into tears, while Aisha had cried from overwhelming sorrow—yet she still kept her face buried in a stranger's shoulder.
"……."
Beyond her slightly ragged breaths and the face hidden against his shoulder, a faint blush crept unnoticed across Aisha's cheeks.
Just a little more, just a little longer...
For reasons she couldn't fathom, a quiet desire to linger like this welled up within her.
Hnng...! She shuddered at the unbidden thought.
Estiang gazed down at her, his eyes silently questioning what's gotten into her?
A sensation utterly new to her lifetime tingled across her cheek. Beyond the fabric of Estiang's clothes, the firm, knight-hardened muscles transmitted directly.
Your Grace the Grand Duke—if you took off your clothes, surprisingly...
Gulp.
Aisha swallowed without thinking. He didn't look bulky on the surface, but beneath surely lay denser muscle than expected.
Anyway, this bizarre new texture. The damp shoulder slick from her own tears.
Sniff. As she unwittingly drew breath, a crisp, refreshing scent—not perfume, yet invigorating—tickled her nose.
The instant she leaned in unconsciously to savor it.
"Eek...!"
With a strange squeak, Aisha jolted away from his shoulder. The northern wind bit cold, but it couldn't quench the feverish heat blazing her face. Her cheeks burned scarlet, her breaths came hot and hazy. Her body tingled, adrift in a drunken fog.
In a voice even smaller than before their private talk, she mumbled.
"I'm sorry, Your Grace... The tears just came suddenly. It must have been so awkward for you..."
"...It's fine. Nothing to it."
Estiang replied flatly. Denying any fluster would be a lie, but no need to pile on her embarrassment with details.
How to handle this delicate flower—information gleaned firsthand from her body moments ago.
His nonchalance made Aisha want to crawl into a mouse hole. She knew her actions had been a burden; even sitting still, her fingers and toes twisted in mortification, her face aflame.
But simultaneously.
...It felt good.
A pleasant buzz, reason unknown, tickling low in her belly.
Aisha's blue eyes lifted to Estiang, still glistening with moisture. His recent words echoed blissfully in her ears.
Promise...
Because Estiang had promised to make it so.
"I—I will definitely become that..."
Yearning to repay his faith, she whispered fervently.
"Helpful enough for Your Grace."
Her earnest plea scattered on her breath. As if in answer, the limp sylph stirred back to life.
And.
Tweet, peep!
Light shimmered dazzlingly from the sylph's translucent form.
"Hm?"
"Huh?"
A phenomenon neither had witnessed before. Ignoring their bewilderment, wind vortexed around the glowing sylph.
Whoooosh—it inhaled the surrounding air, mouth gaping wide.
After the mystery unfolded for a spell, the light dimmed. The sylph blinked open its eyes.
"Sylph...?"
Aisha ventured cautiously. The sylph tilted its head with a peep-peep, expression smug, form sharper than before.
"Sylph, did you grow?"
Peep!
It nodded eagerly, as if awaiting the question.
Estiang and Aisha stared wordlessly at each other for a long moment.
Life's a chain of incidents. There's C between B and D, but before I pick, shit hits the fan nonstop.
The talk with Aisha was my call, but her bawling into my shoulder then awakening? Not my script.
Good or bad? Definitely good.
Talking original plot now's pointless anyway...
Her growth outpaced the original by miles. Shockingly, all her contracted spirits had leveled up to mid-tier.
What sparked it? I scooped her early, sure—but a chat triggers evolution?
A few more talks and we'd hit spirit king. Hell yeah.
"Wow, Your Grace! Look—the ground's perfectly leveled!"
Aisha beamed beside me, petting the gnome.
At her command, half a soccer field quaked. The earth compacted smooth; obstructing boulders uprooted in the tremors—that was the spectacle.
The pudgy earth spirit panted, tongue lolling in exhausted protest.
"Spirits are damn convenient, no doubt."
"Gnome's whining it's tired—can't overuse it, I think."
Aisha met my eyes squarely, conveying clearly. Meeting payoff: her affinity and maturity both leaped satisfyingly.
"Won't need compaction often. His Majesty's gold gift means a new building—use your power for foundations then."
" entrust it to me."
Her blue eyes curved softly.
"You good too, Gnome?"
Peek...
"Gnome says yes, Your Grace."
Aisha grinned brightly.
"Sounds winded for 'yes.' Can't parse spirits myself."
"Gnome?"
Peek!
The gnome bobbed vigorously. Clearly under Aisha's thumb, but I let it slide. Downhill's the way.
Earth spirit alone revolutionizes plowing—no plow needed with those boulders yanked easy. Northern farming: blast fields wide with spirit aid?
Mid-fantasy.
"......"
Aisha gazed up, eyes sparkling like a kid craving praise. The wordless nudge hit; I cleared my throat.
"Indeed, Aisha—bringing you was wise."
"Hehe... Thank you, Your Grace. Following you? Best choice of my life."
Like an invisible tail wagging. Blonde vibes: golden retriever.
Tilting my head at her transparency, Roena approached.
She eyed me, then Aisha, before speaking in her usual crisp tone.
"Your Grace, Sir Maximilian and the rangers have returned."
"Days out?"
"Four."
"On estimate. Let's go. Aisha, rest up."
"Yes, Your Grace. Later."
Left her reluctant nod behind, headed straight for the rangers. Safe return? Outside status? Already hurrying—sped up more.
Gate swarmed with unscathed rangers unpacking gear. Rangers, Maximilian, Billaine—all intact.
Phew. All good.
Relief settling, Maximilian saluted briskly.
"Your Grace, orders perfectly executed."
"Casualties?"
"Zero—even wounded. Map scouted to spec."
"Good."
Common stock but elite picks for grit. One loss? Irreplaceable.
Relief doubled, hit my top question.
"Beyond the Great Wall?"
"Fucking cold."
Maximilian dead serious.
"Unprepped? Frostbite on fingers, toes easy. Lesson learned—beef up cold gear next."
"Could've been freak weather."
"Maybe. Fingers crossed."
"Engagements?"
"Avoided max, but unavoidable fights happened."
"Can't dodge all. Field call respected."
"Grateful, Your Grace."
He grinned, adding,
"Truth? Orc skirmish unavoidable."
"Orcs?"
"Aye—smashed two villages."
"...Villages?"
Hold up—mindless orcs in villages?
Belied belief; reaction lagged.
"Yes—proper villages. Spotted over ten near foothills."